


Where It All Begins

by dangerousdaydream



Series: Johnstrade Challenge [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Falling In Love, M/M, Moving On, inspired by a song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 05:52:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dangerousdaydream/pseuds/dangerousdaydream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before whatever this was that he had with Greg went any further, he had to be absolutely positive he was in a place to give his all. Because the policeman made him happy and John didn't want to hold anything back out of fear of not being over Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where It All Begins

**Author's Note:**

> Part three! Can't believe I've grown so okay with posting my random stories that I write throughout my day. I should have gotten one of these a long time ago! The song this time is "You Can" by David Archuleta, in case you were curious.
> 
> Once again, thank you for reading. I'm so glad you're all giving my story a chance. I hope you like this one!

It was the first night in over a year that this had happened. John laid wide awake in his bed, staring at the clock as the seconds ticked by, completely incapable of shutting his mind off. He hated this, but he couldn't help but be okay with it, because he was deliriously happy and at least his sleeplessness was caused by that and not misery, right? The doctor rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, his tongue running thoughtfully over his lips as he tried to make that soft smile, those brown eyes, that warm laugh leave his mind for five fucking seconds so he could sleep. But no, every time he closed his eyes he saw the face of a man he had grown incredibly fond of. Every time he began to drift off he felt soft lips on his. He heard that sweet, soothing voice telling him how wonderful he was, how incredible, how necessary. It was maddening and John felt restless in a way he hadn't in a long time.

He finally gave up on trying to sleep around four a.m. He waited until he knew his friend would be waking up before he sent a text blaming him for his sleepless night.

He hadn't expected a phone call in response.

"Aww, you didn't sleep?" came the soft, tired voice.

"No. I couldn't. I tried for /hours/, Greg." John smiled up at the ceiling and put his free hand behind his head. "I swear, sometimes I'm convinced you turn me into a bloody teenager."

"Wait, how is it /my/ fault you couldn't sleep?" Greg teased sleepily. "I dropped you off early last night because I have that meeting this morning, remember?"

"Yeah, but then you came inside and we tried watching that movie."

"I was a bit distracted," he said, and John could picture him shrugging. "Can't really blame me, can you?"

John's smile grew. "No, I suppose not."

After they had returned from their second date, Greg was going to leave to get some sleep so he would be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for the press conference covering the death of a politician, but neither man was quite ready for the night to end, so he'd come into John's flat and they sat cuddled up together on the couch, attempting to watch some film that was on the telly. Instead of doing that, however, John had looked at Greg and had this smile that made the inspector smile back and before they knew it, they were kissing. A lot. Nothing happened beyond that, but John didn't care and he knew Greg didn't either. The way he felt when Greg looked at him with those soft, comforting eyes, when he had his arms around him, when he was kissing him, was unlike anything John had ever felt. It was safe and warm and the doctor found himself wanting that all over again, right now.

He squirmed a little and licked his lips. "I think it's my turn to treat you this time," he said, closing his eyes as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He had been doing an awful lot of that lately. "So how about you meet me here around eight?"

"Tonight?" Greg yawned and made a soft grunting sound, which only served to make John smile wider. "I'm not sure I'll have the time, but I'll see what I can do. We'll probably have to call Sherlock in at some point and you know how he gets."

"Oh, I know." John's smile didn't fade even slightly at the mention of his ex. He sat up and stretched before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "Want me to come do some damage control of my own?"

"Are you sure you're up for it?" The question was soft and tentative, as if Greg worried that speaking any louder would make John upset. "You don't have to. I can manage on my own for a little while."

"No. No, I want to." And John really did, because if the mention of the man he had spent two years with didn't bring any negative feelings anymore, he had to make sure that /seeing/ him would have the same effect. Before whatever this was that he had with Greg went any further, he had to be absolutely positive he was in a place to give his all. Because the policeman made him happy and John didn't want to hold anything back out of fear of not being over Sherlock. "I'll be okay. Really. And if I'm not, you'll be there. Right?"

"Yes, I will."

"Then I'll see you in a few hours." John paused for a moment, feeling a bit nervous all of a sudden. He cleared his throat. "Hey, Greg?"

"Yeah?"

"You like me, don't you?"

Greg chuckled softly. "Why do you ask?"

"Just making sure."

"Yes. I like you, John." More chuckling. "You weren't kidding when you said I turn you into a teenager, were you? You really had to ask?"

John's face flushed. "Kind of find it hard to believe, to be honest."

"Is that what kept you up all night? Wondering if I liked you?"

John made a soft huffing sound. "No." Yes. "It was more than that." He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled to himself. "I... I had a really nice time last night. I can't remember the last time I smiled that much on a date."

"I'm happy to hear that. I had fun too." They fell into a companionable silence after that, and John could hear the steady breathing on the other line as if Greg were sitting beside him on his bed. John's eyelids covered his brown eyes and he smiled as he listened. There was something so comforting and warm about this, the way they could sit there on the phone and not say a word but still communicate so many different things. 

It was Greg who broke the silence a few minutes later. "What are you thinking about over there? I can almost hear the gears moving in your head."

John's bottom lip disappeared into his mouth and he worried it between his teeth for a moment before speaking. "I feel like I've been hit by a freight train."

"How do you mean?"

"You," he said, smiling like a giddy schoolboy as he stood up and crossed over to the closet to change. If they weren't able to have dinner tonight, he could surprise him with lunch after his meeting instead. "It feels like you came out of nowhere just when I needed you and now I'm... Well. I meant what I said last night about being swept off my feet. You're very charming, Greg."

"Not really," he said, and John could picture that soft smile on his face at the compliment. "I'm only trying to treat you the way you deserve."

And just like that, John wanted to kiss him again. "You can't just say that to me," he murmured. "I might believe you one of these days."

"Good. You're amazing, John."

"So are you, Greg."

~*~*~

It wasn't as though John hadn't imagined this conversation a million and one times after they broke up. He had spent more time than he would ever care to admit doing just that, in fact, wondering what he should say to the man who so carelessly ripped his heart out and didn't even blink. But now that they were face-to-face again after all that time, John found that he didn't feel bitter or angry or anything towards the man. He stuffed his hands into his pockets as he stared down at the body that was on the mortician's table; Molly and Greg decided to conveniently go check another piece of evidence when Sherlock came into the room. Figured. 

John cleared his throat after the silence had been drawn out too long. "Sherlock--"

"If this is about Lestrade, I already know," the consulting detective said, moving around the table to inspect the other side. He leaned in close to the man's ear with his strange magnifying glass, his eyes narrowing.

John shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "What do you know?"

"You two are dating. He came in smelling like you today, though it was very faint, so I'm guessing you were together last night." Sherlock stood up straight and looked at John, his expression blank. "It's fine, you know. I'm... I'm glad you aren't alone anymore."

John ran his tongue across his lips before he spoke again. "Then why did you look so angry a few weeks ago?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Sherlock slipped his little tool into his pocket and turned back to the body. "I know what I lost. What he has now. And it upset me that I'm so easy to move on from, but I suppose I can't really blame you. I'm insufferable at the best of times, aren't I? Well. I hope you two are happy. You're a far better match together than anyone either of you have dated in the past."

"Easy to move on from? Are you kidding?" John shook his head. "Sherlock, you have no idea how many nights I spent wide awake wondering what I did wrong. Why you threw me aside like that, like what we had didn't matter to you."

Sherlock peered at John through long eyelashes, his expression a mix of pain and disbelief. "Of course you mattered to me, John. You always have. But I'm no good for you, surely you knew that. You need someone who could be there for you in more ways than I ever could. I told you from the beginning I wasn't good at relationships, and look at where it got us. I should have kept you my friend. I never meant to cause you that level of pain."

John didn't know what to say. So it wasn't that he'd made a mistake or that Sherlock had grown bored of him or even that he'd found someone else. It was that Sherlock didn't feel he was enough for John and had decathected himself from the relationship. In that strange way that only the consulting detective was capable of, Sherlock was trying to protect John. It wasn't meant to be malicious or spiteful in any way. John sighed and rubbed his face with rough hands. "Sherlock..."

"Does he make you happy?"

The question was so softly spoken that John was almost positive he hadn't heard him correctly. "What?"

"Lestrade," he clarified, crossing his arms as he stared at John. "Does he make you happy?"

John smiled to himself. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "Yeah, he does."

"Good." And with that, Sherlock was gone, off to find the two who had abandoned them and no doubt rattle off what he'd learned from studying the body that Molly and the others on the Forensics team had missed. John felt like a burden he didn't realize he was carrying had been lifted from his shoulders and he smiled, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he turned to walk out as well.

Except he couldn't leave because Greg was standing in the doorway looking awfully concerned.

John smiled as he walked over to him and stood on his toes to plant a sweet kiss to his cheek. "I was thinking we could go for French tonight. Something different, you know?"

Greg just stared at John, as if torn between dropping the subject and pressing it, because truth be told he had been really worried about them talking again after how they behaved right after the breakup. And how they'd hardly spoken since then, in almost nine months now.

That's when John's hand slipped into Greg's and he smiled a soft, reassuring smile. "He's okay with us," John said quietly. "I promise."

"Is he?"

"Yes. We're all right now. You have nothing to worry about."

Greg didn't seem convinced, but the more he looked at John, at the obvious way his shoulders had relaxed and the calm aura about him, he himself felt tension seep out and he sighed heavily. A shy, tentative smile showed up on his face and he leaned down, his free hand cupping John's cheek as he kissed him tenderly.  

"French sounds amazing."

~*~*~

The diner was small and intimate, the lighting dim, creating a very romantic feel throughout the small space. A candle was placed on each of the tables and the sounds of a soft violin echoed throughout the room. The tables were big enough for two and John couldn't think of anyone in the world he would rather be with than the silver-haired policeman that was sitting across from him.

Greg had been talking about the conference and the meeting and how he had been so grateful when John showed up with takeaway for lunch because he sorely needed to see a friendly face. John sat there quietly and listened, his smile never fading as Greg waved his arms dramatically and told of how the press just couldn't believe there were no leads so /obviously/ the government was hiding something and Mycroft had better be grateful that Greg was so damn good at his job.

And then the food came and the two fell into another companionable silence, comfortable and easy as the two picked at their food. John couldn't help stealing glances of the man in front of him, and he pondered when exactly he had realized he could possibly be falling in love.

Because after two dates and countless hours spent talking on the phone, John was almost positive he was falling. Hard and fast and with no way of stopping.

Four brown eyes met for a moment and John smiled, wondering if Greg could ever love him back. What did he see when he looked at him? Was he strong in the policeman's eyes? Dependable? Handsome?

Were these the eyes of someone Greg could love?

"Those gears are turning again," the DI murmured, putting his fork down and leaning closer to John, smiling ever so softly. "Penny for your thoughts?"

John put his own fork down and smiled back at him. He didn't say a word though, choosing instead to lean forward and kiss him. Again, Greg seemed surprised at first, but he quickly eased into it, his eyes sliding shut and his hand coming up to hold the side of John's neck, his thumb caressing his strong jawbone. John smiled even more as he pulled away.

"Wow," Greg breathed as he looked at John. "I don't think I've ever felt that much in a kiss before."

"Yeah," John said, shaking his head as his smile continued to grow. He really /was/ a sodding teenage boy, wasn't he? "There's a lot going on inside of me right now. See?" He took Greg's hand and pressed it against his chest, directly above his heart. "It's been doing that for ten minutes."

Greg chuckled. "It's going mad in there."

"The phrase 'be still my heart' becomes more and more relevant to me when it involves you." John blushed at the incredibly cheesy confession and he averted his gaze, finding a stain on the tablecloth incredibly interesting all of a sudden. "I just... I feel a lot more than I thought I did. And it keeps growing and I don't know what to do."

"Let it." John looked up at Greg, his eyes full of disbelief, as if he were saying 'oh yeah, right, I'll get right on that'. The policeman chuckled again and moved his hand to cover John's. "No, I mean... What do you have to lose in letting yourself feel something more for me? Clearly I have feelings for you too, yeah?"

"That's true, but..." John bit his lip, worrying it between his teeth as he fell silent. Should he tell him? "...You know. I haven't felt alone even once in the last month."

"That's good, John."

"It's because of you. You and your charming smile and your gorgeous eyes and... Well." Blood rushed to his cheeks and gave them a rosy color that stood out against his slightly tanned skin. "I like you, Greg. You know that. What you /don't/ know is..." His bottom lip disappeared into his mouth again. Oh, for the love of god, John, /say it/. "If anyone could make me fall in love, it's you. And... And I think I'm starting to. Or, I have. You helped me get back on my feet after I was sure I would never get over Sherlock. You made me feel something again, just by being yourself. You asked me to lunch and you were so shy and when I said yes, I never expected I'd fall for you. But I am, slowly but surely. You saved me from myself, swept me off my feet, and--"

A finger pressed gently against John's lips then, and John looked into Greg's eyes to find that he was starting to tear up. When he removed his finger, he shook his head. "John, I... I didn't do anything special. I just wanted to take you out. I just wanted you to see that someone other than him could love you, if you let them."

"I want you to," John found himself saying. Months ago, he never thought he would be here, but now he was and this man made him happy and feel safe and he was everything John wanted. "I do. I'll let you, if you want to. I know I'm over him now. I can... I can give you all of my heart." 

Greg smiled again and held John's hand, long rough fingers curling around the smaller ones, sliding together as if they were made to fit imperfectly together. "Then I have a question for you, John Watson."

"What is it?"

Greg leaned forward and kissed him softly, then pulled away to murmur quietly against his lips. "Will you be my boyfriend?"

"Yes," John breathed, shivering when he felt Greg kiss him again. He didn't want this night to end. He was falling for this man with the warm smile and the beautiful eyes and the laugh that made his heart soar. It was as though he were spinning around in circles with his arms spread out on both sides and the world was spinning with him and then gravity took hold and he was falling hard and fast.

Greg was a dream come true. No one had ever made John feel like that, like they were so perfect they had to be a dream, but this policeman had been so charming and sweet and kind to him that if it turned out he really was a dream, John never wanted to wake up. 

Because Greg Lestrade was the best dream he had ever had.


End file.
